Issac's Deleted Death Scenes
by The Young and Free Dragon
Summary: We all know the spectacular death scenes in Dead Space 1&2, but there are several they could've done. Here I'll be writing different scenes of Issac's demise, based off parts of the games and my own ideas. Contains: Graphic violence and language.
1. Chapter 1

**Alright, so originally this was meant to be a scene per each day of October, but I couldn't get it together with all the school stuff and everything. So, as October draws to a close, I'll just post as many as I can think of. In any case, here is your warning; This work of fiction is centered around graphic violence, and also contains language. I've been told me style is extremely well detailed, so you've been warned. This fiction is intended for gore hounds, who should love the games.**

**My sick sense of fun is now conveyed...**

DEAD SPACE: ISSAC' DELETED DEATH SCENES

BY THE YOUNG AND FREE DRAGON

"A Sacrifice To Survive

...Or Not"

(Takes place in Dead Space 2)

Issac sighed heavily. His meter was low as he stumbled through the darkened room. In his hands, the Ripper was held tightly, the blade inside spinning, making the slightest noise in the gloom. He stopped hunched over as he breathed heavily. Somewhere off in the distance, he heard a banging sound. He grit his teeth, but then opened his mouth again, his body needing oxygen so bad that it would not allow him any show of emotion. He looked up. An air vent was just across the room. He began stumbling. He wanted to get out of here before the necromorph got here. The less fighting he had to do, the better. But as he stumbled in front of the air lock, three yellow-orange beams appeared in front of him. He turned and saw they were behind him. A picture of a woman appeared across the room, telling him of his trespassing.

"Fuck." He grunted.

Suddenly, a Leaper burst out of the air vent, growling and spitting. He raised his Ripper, his finger tightening around the trigger, preparing to shoot a blade into the creature. But as it thrashed forward it hit one of the beams and was blown to shreds, the air lock exploding and the door going down. Issac fell on his back with a cry, dropping the ripper as he was dragged toward the open space. He wrestled his Plasma Cutter from his belt and fired off two shots without succession at the button to close the gate. He was within feet of the gate as his boots lost their tread on the floor and he was drug on to his side, face down. He felt the door passing beneath his hand and let out a cry as he was sure he was to be sucked into dead space, but suddenly the door began to go up. It lifted him up, closing on his armpit and shoulder. He let out a cry of pain as it squeezed, crushing arteries and tendons and blood exploding out of the back of his bicep, piece of flesh and muscle floating off into space. But suddenly the power cut and the machine stopped, holding his arm in a death grip, but no longer trying to break it. He fell limp, tears rolling down his face as he hung there by his mangled arm.

It hurt. It hurt more than he could describe. Almost as much as the pain of his dementia. He was about to give way to weeping in pain when suddenly he heard a coughing, gargling sound. He turned his head and saw the Leaper crawling toward him from about fifteen feet away. It's tail had been severed from the security beams and one of it's arms had been torn away, leaving frayed, burned flesh, spilling blood in a steady stream behind it. But it's head was very much intact, and it's jaws were snapping as it crawled toward him. Panic seized his stomach and began to shake him. It would be here within a minute, and it would surely tear him apart. He'd seen those jaws at work before. He pulled at his arm and let out a grunt of pain. It was stuck tight and what little suction was coming from space was keeping it in place. He struggled for another minute but his brain made him stop, refusing to let him hurt himself anymore this way, and he knew it was no use. He looked down below himself and there was his Plasma Cutter. He'd dropped it as he had been lifted in the air, but it was right beneath him. It would be no problem to grab it he could only... if he could only get down there.

But there was no chance of that. His arm was stuck tight and there was no way he could kick it or something with his feet. He was about five feet above it. But... if he could detach himself from his arm, he could get down to it. Panic squeezed his stomach tightly as he thought of this, but his brain began rationalizing it. The arm was useless. Most of the muscle and bone had been crushed by the gate. If he tore himself down, he could grab the Plasma Cutter and kill the Leaper, and maybe find something he could make into some sort of tourniquet, or hell, even shove something in the wound. Whatever to stop the bleeding. He wrapped his fingers around his crushed bicep and began to wrench at it, moving his shoulder as much as he could. As he thrashed about, the arm finally came out of the socket, and the abused flesh of the arm tore easily. He let out a violent cry of pain that seemed to cut the his throat as it burst through him. The white bone of his shoulder was exposed, cold air biting it and the flesh around. He kept screaming, and his movements cause the flesh on his shoulder blade-the only thing keeping him attached to his arm- to tear and he began to fall toward the ground. But suddenly, he jerked violently in the air and let out another loud scream, the pain intensified as though someone was jerking on the bloody flesh. He looked up and saw that he was suspended by a strip of flesh from his arm. As he wrapped his fingers around it to tear it, the strip snapped and slid through his fingers, slippery as wet pasta. He fell hard on his back and let out another cry, laying there, fresh blood spilling from his torn arm. He lay on his stomach panting, slowly realizing that his helmet had been knocked off by the fall and he was lying on his face.

He lay there for a second before his objective entered his pain clouded mind and broke the hold it had on his brain. He forgot about the fiery explosion that had consumed the stump where his arm had been and he grabbed his Plasma Cutter, lifting his head from the floor to look around. But the Leaper was no where to be found. He jerked his head back and forth, his eyes wide as he searched for the monster. But even before he heard the scrapping of teeth and a talon hand behind him, he knew it was there, He turned over, firing off one shot from the Plasma Cutter before the necromorph's jaws closed around his forearm. He let out a cry of pain as the long teeth dug into his flesh and it began to wrench it's head back and forth, thrashing it's body around in the excitement of spilling Issac's blood. It reared it's head back and his forearm came off at the elbow, jagged flesh spilling blood on to Issac's screaming face.

The Leaper then dug it's teeth into his head and his skull crushed in it's mouth, stabbing into the soft tissue of his brain. His mouth was still letting out horrified screams of pain, even though he was probably no longer aware of anything. The monster reared it's head again and his head popped off like a grape from the stem, blood splattering in a foot long radius, and then being covered by fresh crimson as his neck spewed it's scarlet fluids.

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><p><strong>I hope you've enjoyed the first installment. I shall hopefully have one each day. Please review and I'll see you guys soon.<strong>


	2. Chapter 2

**Second installment. Please enjoy.**

DEAD SPACE: ISSAC'S DELETED DEATH SCENES

BY THE YOUNG AND FREE DRAGON

"Just Look In the Mirror"

(Takes place anywhere in Dead Space 2.)

Issac's Death;

Issac stumbled into the grimy bathroom, placing his palm against the wall and dropping his Line Gun at his feet. It clattered loudly, but he didn't care. He retracted his helmet, placing his free hand on his side, holding the knot that was screaming loudly under his skin. He glanced over his shoulder. The bathroom was a mess, the stalls broken, the sink across from him was broken, the one he was standing beside was fine, but covered in blood. His eyes moved down the sink and there was a mangled body, hardly describable as a human, barely any skin left on it, mostly exposed muscle and bone, eyes gone, mouth ajar, internal organs lying inside the stomach and around it, surrounded in blood just to finish up the picture. He looked up at the wall in front of him, and saw a dirt covered mirror. He wiped it off, only spreading the grime around, but he was able to see himself a bit clearer. His eyes were hollowed, his face tugging at the boundaries of health. He felt sick as he looked at himself, he wasn't sure whether it was from the smell of the bathroom, the dead body, or his face, or all of the above.

As he stared at himself suddenly, something was behind him. He saw hollow eye sockets, tan, skin pulled tightly over a skull. He turned and was seized by a Puker. The hollow stare dug into his exposed face as the creature pushed him up against the mirror, holding his hands with it's misshapen claws. It wrestled with him and he saw it's exposed lungs heaving as it brought it's acidic bile up it's throat. He closed his mouth and eyes but was unable to keep a scream from bursting from his throat as it vomited on his chest. He felt the acid burning through his armor, eating everything until it was eating his clothes and then his flesh. The creature reared it's head back, it's talons tearing into his wrists, splitting the muscle from the bone, and began hacking and coughing, pulling up more bile.

He kept thrashing about, trying to break it's grip but he couldn't and his legs felt too weak to kick it. He couldn't help screaming again, his skin was peeling off his muscles, letting the acid continue to eat into him exposing his ribs and burning below, exposing his intestines. They were held in by what flesh was left, but it was quickly receding and soon they would spill all over the dirty floor. The Puker vomited on his shoulders and neck. The armor disappearing quickly and his collar bone jutting out, the veins of his neck throbbing as he panicked, his red esophagus rippling as he let out another scream of pain. The monster roared in his face and then grunted once and then twice before vomiting all over his face. He screamed as it covered his head, his eyes and mouth had been wide open and his eyeballs began to melt, spilling over his brain, but also letting the bile into his skull to begin working on his brain. The skin of his face peeled, teeth and muscle becoming exposed, blood spilling out of the torn nerves. The Puker slammed his head against the mirror, cracking it and the spun him around, wrapping an arm over his neck.

What remained of Issac's eyes stared in horror at his own face in the shards of mirrors, looking into the blood tangle of flesh, nerves, and exposed skull that was now his face. He screamed in absolute terror and repulsion before his the claws of the Puker's right hand slipped into the softened flesh in his throat and pulled, his skull came cleanly off his neck, spewing blood all over the mirror and bubbling as the necromorph dropped Issac's dead body to the dirty floor. In a final expulsion, it vomited over his back, the acid eating away until a minute or so later, the ribs coming out of the receding muscles and internal organs. The Puker whipped its body around, as was characteristic of it's actions, and threw the severed head of Issac into one of the stalls. Falling to the disgusting floor, the thing barely recognizable as a head lay, spilling blood as bile spilled out of the openings burned into it.

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><p>Puker's Death;<p>

Issac dodged the streams of acid which melted the glass behind him. He wrestled his right arm out of the grip of the claws and wrapped his hand around its wrist and shoved the claws into the creatures own throat. It gargled and spat blood and vomit at him but he was already moving around it, tearing the claws out of the creature and turning the arm around to an odd angle, then placing his boot against it's back, he pulled and his foot pushed and the arm came off. Spraying bile and blood from the wound. He tossed the arm away and grabbed his Line Gun and shot a blast through the Puker's mid-section. It's legs flew out from under it, and the torso, one arm, and head landed on the ground. It growled at him and he jumped back as it vomited up at him. He prepared to fire another blast but realized that the gun was empty. Groping at his pockets for another line rack, the Puker managed to flop like a dying fish and knocking him on to his back, crawling up his legs. He pulled his right boot up and placed it against the creature's shoulder, gripping its head with both hands and pulling as hard as he could. He rolled away as the head tore away and just barely missed having acid spilled on to his crotch. His legs were burned a bit the bile but he wiped it off quickly before it could burn much further. The torso flopped around, wallowing in it's own blood and bile, dissolving its own body. It finally went still, but Issac was long gone.

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><p><strong>I hope the second installment was pleasing. Please review.<strong>


	3. Chapter 3

**Alright, well I said I wanted to update everyday but I simply can't do it. Too much on my plate. So an update every few days is my goal. Leave a review please.**

DEAD SPACE: ISSAC'S DELETED DEATH SCENES

BY THE YOUNG AND FREE DRAGON

"Catching the Next Train"

(Takes place anywhere in Dead Space)

Issac's Death;

Issac fired his Plasma Cutter five times at the Infector, which was reduced to a shivering pile of flesh, blood, and bone. He ejected the Plasma Energy, turning as he did to survey the infected. Three corpses were walking, no charging at him, their limbs flailing as they ran. He dispatched the first with a shot to the shin, which split it in half, causing the creature to trip and fall. As it fell, it's head was an open target and he fired three blasts, one taking off each of it's limbs, and the last taking its head. The second fell in much the same manner. He now had to run to the other side of the train station, because the third Slasher was closing in on him. This one had no head, the head having been severed some time before. He ejected the energy and fired off all twelve shots into the creature with little success. The shots tore gaping holes in the creature's body, causing blood to spray the already crimson ground, and it lost one of its limbs but still it came. He tried to eject another clip, but had to turn and run again as it jumped in the air to clumsily attack him. But as he turned, it managed to grab on to his back, forcing him to the ground as it wrapped its remaining appendage around his neck, trying to keep hold of him. He opened his eyes and noticed as he struggled beneath it, that his head was in the way of the train, just hanging off the safety of the platform.

He wrestled with the creature, as he heard the distant sound of a train coming. But he could not get a grip on the creature, his legs could do nothing, and his arms were in no position to grab the necromorph, anywhere but around the claw it had wrapped around his neck. Thankfully the edge of the blade was dull, the only way the monster could do any real damage to him was if it stabbed him directly with the tip. But if it was either smart enough to keep him down (or stupid enough not to move) the train would soon come and finish him. He tried to move his hands up the appendage, but it was slippery from blood and frayed flesh from when he'd shot it so many times. If he could just get his hands up to the bicep, he could tear the limb off at the shoulder blade, where it was mounted. Then the creature would have no means to harm him and he could kill it. He tried wrap his arm around it at the elbow but it slid out of his grip, and not because of the blood. The creature had raised the limb and as he grasped for it in empty air, it came down and stabbed into the space between his shoulder blades.

He let out a cry of pain, the blade slicing deep into his flesh, striking his spine as it deepened and broke through three ribs, pressing against the back of his right lung, causing him to feel pressure as he drew heavy labored breath. He gripped the edge of the platform, gasping as the Slasher tore the blade out of him and stabbed it back in, forcing him farther off the platform, he was now hanging over, the edge against his stomach, only supported by the creature's weight on his legs. The second hit had buried in almost the same place, this time it reached his lung and cut the soft tissue, as he was forced to exhale from the impact, it deflated like a balloon and he vomited blood, feeling as though he was about to choke out his windpipe, unable to breath.

As he continued to try and suck in air, the Slasher tore its limb out and raised it again for another stab that never happened. Just then the train passed by. The necromorph was thrown back by the wind of the train and landed on its back, Issac's bottom half was lying just beside it, spurting blood all over the ground. The rest of his body was nothing but a red splatter on the side of the train.

Slasher's Death;

As the Slasher's blade came down, Issac grabbed its hips and heaved it over his shoulders. Its claw scrapped the side, sending sparks up at him as the creature went over the side. Issac fell back on his bum, raising his hand to shield his face as the train went by and blood showered on to him. When he looked, the Slasher's blade was lying beside him but nothing but red was left.


	4. Chapter 4

**Next installment. Please enjoy. Took a few creative liberties with this one.**

DEAD SPACE: ISSAC'S DELETED DEATH SCENES

BY THE YOUNG AND FREE DRAGON

"I Am The Doorway"

(Takes Place Anywhere in Dead Space 1)

Issac's Death;

Issac lifted his Plasma Cutter up so the light shone on the Immature Guardian. As the light shone on the face-which could barely be classified as such- it let out a howl, one eye gone and the other rolling around, blinded by the light, and having a very human quality to it. The guardian was attached to the wall, the intestines hanging limply, mutated into tentacles. Issac lowered the gun a little, studying the creature. The eye stared at him and the head shook back and worth as it wailed, the arms twitching a bit as though it was trying to move them but unable to. The eye showed terror and pain, and looked like an island among the infected and mutilated flesh of the rest of the body. It was still human, Issac realized, or at least the human was still inside it, trapped in a bloated, disgusting bag of flesh. His finger unclenched off the trigger of the Plasma Cutter. He knew he could do nothing for the man. However it was that the infection was keeping him alive had to be ended. That would be the only sort of mercy. He glanced around the darkness once before raising his Plasma Cutter. The head seemed to shake and the eye grew wider. Issac was so hypnotized by the eye, he didn't realize the tentacles were lifting until they had erected themselves fully and one slashed out at him.

He jumped back, not taking damage but as the tentacle moved, he briefly saw the bottom of the gate lock. It looked like the key card type, but he only saw the edge of it. If he blasted the creature straight, he would destroy the card system and he suspected that hacking the system would be easier than rewiring the entire thing. He just had to take it one step at a time. The tentacles were the creature's only defense. He positioned himself on the Guardian's direct right, raising his Plasma Cutter and lining it up so all the tentacles could be severed. He squeezed off three shots just to make sure that they all came off. With a splash of blood and now a leaking wound on the front of the creature, the tentacles lay in a heap on the ground below it. It let out a loud cry of pain, shaking about waving its arms about. He decided the arms might be a problem as well and stood in front of the monster and took them off as well. Now the necromorph/human was now just a head and a torso, fused to the wall. He stepped forward. And placed a hand on the wall beside it and attached his Plasma Cutter to his belt and pulled his hand back, muttering an apology in advance to the human eye and then thrusting his hand forward as hard as he could.

His hand burst through the chest cavity of the monster and his fingers groped the metal box. The creature roared loudly, a monstrous roar, but was lined with a human scream. Issac grit his teeth, telling himself that the person was too far gone to feel the pain and began twisting his hand about to spread out the flesh and what was left of the entrails so that he could have room to work. Once there was a place big enough to clench and unclench his hand, he punched through the box and began feeling the wires. There were three. One with a square input, one with a circular, and one with a triangular. His fingers drummed nervously on them as he tried to remember which one to pull and which two to switch. The necromorph was hissing and letting out human screams, and his stomach was tightening ever tighter as he tried to work. He pulled one out and an electrical current went through the monster and him. He was barely phased, though had to rest for a moment, but the creature threw its head back howled, a crackling sound coming from its body as though the scream was so powerful that it was tearing it apart inside.

But as it shook around his hand, it felt as though the flesh was expanding, not tearing. He wondered if the creature was going to explode. He tried to pull his hand back out just in case but it wouldn't come out. Something wrapped around his hand and pulled it up into the upper organs of the monster. He let out a cry of surprise and then pain as it twisted his hand the wrong way. He began pulling trying to get his arm away from whatever it was that had him. After a minute or two of pulling his wrist dislocated and as he gave a pull and a howl of pain, the hand came off inside the creature and he pulled his severed wrist out, which spewed tiny rivulets of blood from its torn arteries. The hand fell out of the hole in the creature as a long tentacle emerged with a sharp spike of bone at the end of it. Issac hadn't noticed, he had fallen to his knees, squeezing his severed limb and screaming in pain.

The creature let out an almost human cry of warning before the tentacle stabbed into the back of Issac's head. His eyes went wide as it broke through his skull and buried only a half an inch to his brain but was still enough to cause damage. He fell further to the floor, on his hands and knees as he coughed and spat blood as the tentacle pushed deeper into his head, trying to cause as much damage as it could, perhaps decapitate him as was the style of the monsters. He managed to hold himself up under the pressure for a few seconds before the tentacle burst through his face and hit the floor below him. One eye was squashed into pulp by the tentacle's point and the other fell out, hanging loosely in its shattered socket. The rest of his face was gone except for his bottom jaw which fell open as his brains fell out in chunks on the floor and his tongue lolled out of his throat before the tentacle whipped him back, and his neck let out a snap as his spine broke and his head was severed from his body. His body spurted blood from the empty hole where his head once sat, only adding to the grim mess all over the floor before falling on its side. The creature on the wall let out a sigh of loss and the tentacle retracted into its depths.

Guardian's Death;

Issac wrenched his arm about trying to pull it out of the depths of the creature. As it turned his wrist he grabbed a hold of the circuit board of the door and managed to tear a wire as his wrist was twisted. A beeping resounded and a voice said; "Bay doors now open. Access to hanger granted." The doors began to open and the Guardian's flesh began stretching as the tentacle lost its grip and Issac tore his hand out of the creature. It left out a gurgling cry before it ripped in half. Issac held his hand up in front of his face as blood showered him. He peeked over his arm and held his arm up again as he saw that two links of the creature's intestines had not yet torn and were strung across the open doorway in front of him. One split after a second and then the other. Issac sighed as he began rubbing the intestinal fluids and blood from his armor and heard one last sound from the creature that had been mounted on the door. It sounded like a sigh of relief.


End file.
